


Not Made to Share

by awake0rdreaming



Series: 29 Different Love Stories: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awake0rdreaming/pseuds/awake0rdreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 8:: I was proofreading my manuscript in this cafe but I was so stupid and left it there, but when I came back to get it, I saw you reading it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Made to Share

Stiles sat at Mocha Mocha, hunched over his work, biting his lip as he read a line over and over again. Something about it was off, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. It was driving him _mad_!

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that when his phone rang, he almost knocked his coffee off the table. Steadying the cup, he picked up the call quickly. “Hey, yeah I’m still here.” Stiles took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he looked up at the clock in the cafe. “What’s the rush anyways? I still have another two hours or—“

Stiles pulled the phone off his ear as Scott started yelling. He looked at the time on his phone and saw that it was quarter to six. Shiiiiiit! “I’ll be right there!!” Stiles hung up quickly and placed his manuscript on the chair as he stood and packed his backpack in a rush. Shouldering the bag, he rushed out to the parking lot.

Getting into the Jeep, he had a nagging feeling like he was forgetting something. It was only when he was part way over to the movies, that he realized what was amiss.

—

Malia rushed over to the newly vacant seat from across the cafe. The Guy actually left early. This had never happened before. Today must be her lucky day!

When she got there, she noticed a folder bulging with loose papers and picked it off the seat, sitting down with it on her lap.

She looked at it for a while, not knowing what to do. She looked around, but the owner had left already. She was about to keep it aside for him, in case he came back looking for it, when curiosity got the better of her.

—

“That’s mine.” a voice said, standing by the table as Malia sat bent over it, absorbed in the fantastic world portrayed in the pages.

“Huh,” she glanced up and immediately stood up, like someone had caught her stealing the answers to a test. Which had never happened in real life. _Never_. Really! Okay stop judging.

“Yes! Hi. Here.” she said turning towards the papers, shuffling them into a neater pile as she fought the blush growing on her face. 

Clearing her throat, Malia handed the file over to the attractive boy with the long eyelashes and dark eyes, that were usually framed nicely by thick black framed glasses. 

Except he wasn’t wearing them currently and he looked so different. How could one person look so different without an accessory? His eyes seemed to be of a lighter brown. Interesting.

Okay, so yes she had _noticed_ noticed him in the cafe. And she might have observed how he would sit hunched in the corner, hogging her spot whenever she came by, forcing her to sit elsewhere. 

Malia had been so ruffled by the change that she had begun complaining to her friends about the cute boy with the hipster glasses and messy hair, to the point where Kira and Lydia would tune her out whenever the subject arose.

She saw that the guy was yet to move from her, and belatedly realized she was still holding onto the sheets. “Sorry.” Malia said sheepishly. The guy looked down and flicked through the sheets absently. “It’s all there,” Malia said, a touch defensive.  

“Yeah, I know.” the guy scratched his head, “I can’t believe I forgot it here. It’s like my baby, next to Roscoe.”

It seemed like he was talking to himself. She had no idea who Roscoe was. Maybe a dog.

“Great. Well, um… bye!” Malia sat down, pulling some books from her bag, giving her an excuse to turn away. Stellar first impression Malia, she thought to herself. 

The guy stood a couple more seconds beside her, like he wanted to say something, but then turned around and left.

—

Stiles sat with a pen between his teeth in his usual corner, when Malia collapsed in the sofa in front of him, completely breathless. He was startled enough to drop his pen, his eyes immediately going to her hair, which looked like a windswept mess.

“Oh good, you’re here. I mean I knew you would be, I just…” Malia started talking as soon as she got some of her breath back. “You usually come slightly late on Thursdays, and then you didn’t show up yesterday so of course I freaked!”

Malia waved her hands around as she talked animatedly. “And I thought maybe you weren’t going to show today either. But I had to try, you know? Or I was thinking, maybe leave it with the barista, but it didn’t feel right.”

Stiles’ eyebrows climbed the more she spoke. It wasn’t until she paused to swallow, that he got a word in. “I assume this had a point.”

“What?” Malia looked confused at being interrupted. “Oh yes!” Her eyes lit up and she turned around to her backpack, producing a couple slightly wrinkled pages. “I found these on the floor after you left. You must have dropped them when you picked up that call the other day,” Malia held the paper out for him to take. When he didn’t immediately, she shook them a little, “You can have them.” she said a bit uncertainly.

Stiles blinked and then reached out to take them. He opened his mouth to say thanks. Unfortunately what came out was, “You’ve been watching me?”

“Um…” For the first time since she came in, Malia was quiet. She also dropped her eyes and started looking anywhere but at him. “No. I mean yes, but not the way you think. Not like a creepy stalker.” Malia glanced up at Stiles and saw one eyebrow raised in question.

She took a deep breath, and Stiles half expected her to go on some long rant with no real explanation, but she surprised him by speaking softly, “That’s my seat.”

Stiles instinctively looked down, and she hurried on, “Not like it says ‘property of Malia’ or anything. I’ve been coming here for years, and I would always sit there.” She paused studying her nails. “It’s like my ‘place’.

“And then about three months ago, every time I came in, the seat was occupied. So I figured out what days you would show up, and then work around that. 

But I would always come early on days that I wasn’t busy, because I was afraid someone else would take it. And then some days you stayed longer, and I just got used to coming the same times as you, and although the original intention was to get my seat back, the timings became habit.”

“But you saw me the other day?” Stiles posed it like a question.

Malia grinned though, “When you get used to someone sit as still as a tree, you take notice when they suddenly start flailing spectacularly.”

Stiles chuckled as he nodded in agreement. He saw her look out the window. “Heading back out?” he asked. He didn’t know why he asked. Just that suddenly, he wanted to keep chatting with her, despite still being in his writing zone.

“Yes, but I have half an hour to kill. My bus comes every hour,” she explained without prompting. “And I have to take the second last of the day, which is why I’m so glad you actually came today, otherwise the trip would have been a waste. I’ve already made my shopping list for the party, so what would I do here, you know?”

Stiles tried to come up with a response. “You have a lot of shopping to do?” Oh wow. He really sucked at this. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe he _did_ need to socialize more.

But the double date the other day had been a disaster. Partly because he had been so late in arriving, and partly because his thoughts had been occupied with the very person he was having trouble holding a conversation with. How much of the story had she read? Did she like it? What if she stole his idea? Stuff like that. Partially.

Stiles had been surprised but glad to see her again, only if to finally ask her opinion on his work, but he had gotten distracted by her sudden appearance and the slew of words that had poured from her after, that he had forgotten his manners in order to respond properly to her efforts to get his precious papers back to him.

Malia fascinated him. She was so much like his spirited protagonist—a teenaged werecoyote on a journey of discovery in figuring out who she really was—that if he had to have a book cover with models posing as characters, she would be his pick.

And in her quieter moments like now, she was still expressive, much like a character herself. 

As a writer, he was in constant search for names that fit and somehow embodied the personality of his character. Malia was perfect.

The name. Not the actual person. Though she could be for all he knew.

It took him two seconds to notice that she had stopped talking. He started to open his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it. “You’re not even listening are you?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… did you like it?” he asked finally. “What you read the other day.” 

He had no idea why this was so important. He should be mad that she read it without his consent, not be seeking her opinion. But he had to know.

“I—uh. It’s really—“ Malia couldn’t understand why she couldn’t finish a simple sentence all of a sudden. She suspected it was the way his eyes were so intently fixed on her, making her nervous enough to forget how to talk properly. She finally pointed to the file and said, “She doesn’t have a name.”

Stiles nodded once and continued looking at her, waiting. There was no way he was letting her leave without a real opinion.

“I had trouble putting it down.” Malia said after a long pause. “I was sort of pissed off when you interrupted me,” she tried biting down on her smile—but with Stiles grinning widely, looking equally pleased and amused—it was hard.

She looked at the time, and saw that she only had ten minutes to get to her bus stop. “I have to go.” She said apologetically as she stood up, Stiles following her.

He held out his hand introducing himself before she could walk away, “I’m Stiles.”

Malia looked surprised but shook his hand replying, “Malia Tate. Nice to _officially_ meet you.”  

“Thank you for bringing me my papers. You saved me for having a heart attack when I finally realized they were missing. It’s—thank you.” Stiles didn’t know how to better express his gratitude. He was good at written word, but he wasn’t so eloquent verbally.

“It’s what anyone would have done,” Malia said shrugging it off, waving over her shoulder.

As Stiles watched her leave, he thought how it really _really_ wasn’t.

—

The next time Malia came to Mocha Mocha, Stiles was not in his usual place. As in, in her spot. She had gotten used to him being there that she couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed by his absence.

She made her way over quietly and left her coat on the seat, before heading to the front to order her drink. As she waited for it to be made, her eyes swept over the cafe absently, when something caught her attention. Wait a minute.

Drink in hand, she strode over to the opposite side of the room and sat across from none other than Stiles himself.

“What are you doing?” Malia put her drink down and crossed her arms.

“Working,” he said without looking up.

The black framed glasses were back and they looked _fiiiine_ on him. Focus, Malia. “Why aren’t you working over _there_?” she said pointing the unoccupied seat.

“Guilt mostly.” Stiles said, turning a page. “Figured we could take turns or something.”

“Oh,” Malia blinked, “Thanks.” 

Stiles glanced at her when she didn’t move. “Weren’t you leaving?” he as cocking an eyebrow.

“What? Oh. Yes.” Malia walked over to her seat then. 

Stiles looked in front of him spotting her drink. He was about to signal her, when she hung her coat over the chair in front of him and sat back down. 

Malia pulled her laptop from her bag, and smiled at Stiles’ astonished face over her screen, before getting to work quietly.

Stiles eyed her a couple seconds more, before following suit. 

It became a thing.

—

Stiles leaned against the doorframe to the bedroom, watching the girl in an oversized shirt—his shirt actually—and pyjama shorts, sprawled on their bed, reading his finished manuscript. Just like the first time. Except he didn’t feel like interrupting her now.

She turned towards the door when she sensed movement, and simply looked at him for a moment.

“You named her Malia.” she said finally.

“Yeah,” Stiles smiled. He slid on the bed, and lay beside her, their forearms touching “because she was wild, and passionate. She was quiet but daring. She was soft, but a warrior.”

“Why can’t you say something simple like you just liked the name?” Malia rolled her eyes exasperated.

Stiles laughed, “Because that wasn’t _just_ that.” He turned to look at her, “I was sure you were going to cave and read it before I was done though.”

“I had a couple close calls.” Malia admitted. “But I’m glad I waited. This is— _brilliant_!”

“So you’re not mad?” Stiles asked.

Malia cupped Stiles’ face and kissed him sweetly. “If anything, I’m honoured. You named you’re fierce protagonist after me. I seriously don’t think anything could possibly top this.”

“You might not want to read the acknowledgements then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo Lovelies! I absolutely love this prompt, and it was fun to write because you know, the writer aspect was in there. Malia and Stiles in this au ended up being very different than in canon, but this take felt good so I just went with it. Hope you enjoyed the read :)


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